


work of art

by pancakepaladin



Series: work of art [2]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Injury Recovery, M/M, art student yusuke, nude model ryuji, ryuji and ann are bros for life, ryukita, what could go wrong
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-12 13:04:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11737632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pancakepaladin/pseuds/pancakepaladin
Summary: “It’s not that hard. Just take off all your clothes, put on the robe until they’re ready for you. Then go up there and change your pose every twenty minutes and stay as still as you can. It also helps not to make eye contact with any of them” She said nonchalantly, flipping pages on the magazine.“You want me to what now?” he asked, looking from the robe to Ann to the various artworks on the walls. Nude. All the art work was of nude models. Ann was not wearing anything under her robe. Nude. He had signed up to be a nude model. What?!the college au with art student yusuke and down on his luck injured athlete ryuji ryukita nobody asked for.background ann/makoto + akira/akechi if you squint, jsyk!





	1. Chapter 1

Ryuji Sakamoto was down on his luck, but that was probably an understatement. The understatement of the century, really. Things had started out great, as things often do. He had gotten a full ride to Shujin University on a track scholarship, and he had never been prouder of himself or happier to see his mom so proud of him. He had excelled and been the freshman prodigy of the team, winning trophies and medals and meets, easily surpassing even the senior team member’s best times. Ryuji Sakamoto was flying. 

That was until the unfortunate accident he’d suffered at the beginning of his junior year that ruined literally everything. He was muddy on the details, mostly because he tried to forget them, and damn if he wasn’t good at repressing things. He could at least thank his deadbeat dad for that talent. The track star had fallen in the middle of a race and completely destroyed his leg and knee. He figured maybe it was karma or something, you can only fly so high until you get too close to the sun and get burned or whatever that Icarus idiot did, and this was apparently his version of his wings melting and falling from grace – his broken leg and torn ACL. Poetic bullshit. 

Multiple surgeries and months of catching back up on his schoolwork later, he was called into the admissions office for the conversation he was dreading. There sat the prim-faced dean and his track coach, and the fat folder on the desk in between them that very obviously held all his medical information. The doctor had told him after his surgeries that it was possible he would be able to run again, but it would a while. He had to do the proper physical therapies and stretches and medications and make sure he used his crutches and wore his knee brace, all of that. Unfortunately, the track team and scholarship couldn’t wait on that. Ryuji lost his scholarship and self-worth and confidence all in a matter of a twenty minute conversation in an overly air conditioned and bright lit office. “You’re welcome to reapply and try back out for the team when the doctor clears you to run again” the coach had said, trying to sound hopeful but failing. They both knew there wasn’t much chance of coming back from this. 

Ryuji spent most of his newfound free time not being a track star laying around his campus apartment and marinating in his own self-pity, laying on the couch and binge watching television, glowering at the ugly brace on his knee every once and awhile and taking some really stellar depression naps. Every once and awhile he’d wake up to his roommate, Akira, poking him with his cat’s paw to see if he was still alive. Akira was a man of few words and was oddly attached to his cat for a man, Ryuji always thought, but was one of the only people who didn’t abandon him after his fall from grace and being kicked off the track team. Most likely because they were roommates, but Akira offered his support in the form of bringing home extra take out and snacks from his part time job at the convenience store, as well as going to every doctor and physical therapy appointment with him and to the pharmacy afterwards. His therapist always asked if he’d talked about his injury and lifestyle change with anyone, but Ryuji decided he much preferred the silent support from his bespectacled friend and roommate in the form of Netflix marathons, supreme pizzas and splitting packs of beer on the weekends than he did the embarrassing support groups for injured college athletes his therapist had made him attend.

“I’m not that pathetic, am i?” he’d asked out loud once when they’d gotten home from his most recent and last group session, hobbling in with his roommate behind him. Akira shrugged in response, bending down to pick up the crutches Ryuji had thrown to the ground as soon as they’d crossed the threshold. Ryuji knew tearing your ACL was a fairly common sports injury, but some of these in this group took it as a death sentence. Maybe it was. He would mostly just sit there with his arms crossed and leg elevated, glowering at everyone around him and refusing to overshare as much as everyone else. He never had been much for sharing, especially when it came to his “feelings”. He didn’t sleep at all that night, not even bothering to get underneath the covers of his bed, staring blearily at the collection of orange pill containers arranged on his bedside table. Along with the anti-inflammatory pills and painkillers, he had quite a collection of antidepressants prescribed to him as well. He rarely took any, because he hated how weird they made him feel, and not feel anything at all. 

“You could always just sell them” Akira had offered in a rare moment of conversation, “You could probably use the money.” The blonde rolled his eyes, but was also kind of intrigued that his quiet friend one; knew where he might be able to illegally sell prescription pills, and two; that he’d even suggest such a thing considering he was on-and-off again with someone who was a criminal justice major. 

Ryuji had brushed off the comment until he’d gotten the bill for the first semester his scholarship hadn’t been applied, and practically fainted on the spot at the row of numbers printed on the paper. His immediate reaction had been to call his mother, but realized that was absolutely not the correct reaction. He had tried to keep his accident and scholarship loss a secret from her, not wanting to worry her, but the college had mailed out the letter before he could figure out a good way to tell her. He had told her they would talk about it later, let his injury heal first, and he would get a job, it would be fine. They had both looked at each other strangely, neither of them believing those things to be true.

He knew he had to get a job, but his options seemed limited with his injured leg and knee still stiff and healing at a snail’s pace. Akira had said he could easily come work with him at any of his odd jobs at the coffee shop or convenience store, but being on his feet for six hour shifts was strictly frowned upon by his doctor and physical therapist both. Ryuji had been preparing himself to just drop out, maybe his life was officially over, when he’d seen the flyer flapping around in the wind. 

Life Drawing Models wanted! Any body shape or size or age welcome! Apply within the Fine Arts Building. Fifty a session with opportunity to make even more! 

Ryuji was pretty sure his eyes had flipped over money signs for a second and had hobbled his broke ass to the Fine Arts building to apply. The dean of the art school had been delighted that an athlete had applied, saying it would be great practice for her students to draw muscle definition and more masculine features. Most people who apply for this position are female, she’d said. She’d given him a list of the class times, saying he could sign up for whichever ones he wanted and worked for his schedule. Luckily quite a few of them worked for him, and the earlier the session the more he got paid. How hard could being a life drawing model be, after all? All you had to do was sit or stand there while weird art kids sketched you, right? It would be easy enough money.

He was in for a rude awakening however, the first day he’d showed up for a session, out of breath from dragging his ass up the stairs of the building, still aptly refusing the use his crutches. He’d been looking for the correct classroom in the quiet and drafty building when suddenly a girl had appeared from the studio classroom he’d been looking for. She had a mane of white blonde hair and bright green eyes, and was tying a long white robe around herself, stretching her arms. He couldn’t help but stare. She finally noticed him, shooting him a suspicious look. 

“What are you looking at? Are you lost or something? You don’t look like an art major” she’d laughed the last part. He balked,   
“I… I’m looking for the life drawing class? I signed up to uh… uh, model, or whatever…” he stammered out. He realized he hadn’t talked to a girl ever since the girls from the women’s track team stopped talking to him after his injury. Lame. The blonde girl’s eyebrows raised, giving him a once over, as if cataloging his disheveled appearance. He had bothered to shower this morning, so his short, cropped blonde hair was hopefully normal looking and distracted from what was sure to be heinous under eye bags and his attire of an old sports hoodie and sweats and tennis shoes, the knee brace on underneath the sweats. He shifted his bag to a different shoulder, trying to shift his weight off his bad knee and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. 

“Are... are you an art student?” he asked, trying to make conversation. She flipped her hair over her shoulder and shook her head.   
“Not a drawing student, I’m a fashion design and merchandising major. I’m Ann, by the way, Ann Takamaki. I guess I’m your partner for the semester.”  
“You’re my what?!” he’d squawked, but was interrupted by the life drawing professor appearing in the hallway. 

“Oh! Good! You made it!” she smiled, clasping her hands. “Ann, this is Ryuji, he’s signed up to be your partner for the semester!” she repeated.   
“We’ve met” Ann had replied, smirking at him, like she knew something he didn’t. He hated when girls looked at him like that. 

Turns out the “partner” talk meant that they hired a male and female model for every boy type and age range, and he and Ann had been the “twenty-something athletic build” male and female model type. The professor had herded them into a small curtained off area in the back of the large room, where a circle of chairs and easels surrounded a small pedestal. She handed him a white robe similar to what Ann was wearing, and asked the blonde girl to explain how things worked to him while she set up for the next class. The minute the professor left, Ann had shoved the robe into his hands and flopped down on an old couch within the curtained off area and opened a magazine. 

“It’s not that hard. Just take off all your clothes, put on the robe until they’re ready for you. Then go up there and change your pose every twenty minutes and stay as still as you can. It also helps not to make eye contact with any of them” She said nonchalantly, flipping pages on the magazine.   
“You want me to what now?” he asked, looking from the robe to Ann to the various artworks on the walls. Nude. All the art work was of nude models. Ann was not wearing anything under her robe. Nude. He had signed up to be a nude model. What?!

“I’m not going out there butt ass naked in front of all those strangers!” he hissed, clutching the robe and pointing accusatorily past the curtain.   
“Well it’s what you signed up for” Ann replied boredly.   
“I did not! Nowhere on that flyer did it say anything about stripping!”   
The blonde girl rolled her eyes and put down her magazine.   
“Look, did you really think they wanted to draw you in your ugly pizza stained sweatpants? Of course it’s a nude modeling gig, that’s like art class 101. That’s why they’re paying you. Incentive. Duh” she said. Ryuji balked, looking down at the pizza stains in question on his pants. Akira had told him these clothes were clean. Not that it would matter, he guessed, since he was supposed to be taking them off!


	2. Chapter 2

Ryuji fell into a nice routine, modeling for the morning and afternoon and evening classes almost every day. The initial awkwardness of stripping for a room full of strangers with wandering eyes had worn off rather fast, when he realized that none of the students were looking at him as anything but another body to draw for a grade. He had never thought of his body as something that was a work of art, just something that had given up on him, and maybe a temple that he had lately chosen to worship with microwave burritos and cheap beer. Luckily he still had most of the muscle definition of a seasoned runner, just a little thicker around the stomach, which seemed to amuse Ann as she poked at it. 

He had also quickly lost any shyness he had around Ann, who promised him she was wildly uninterested in his naked body, telling him all about her girlfriend Makoto who was a business major at a private college a few towns over. Ann didn’t have many friends despite her conventionally attractive good looks, because it turned out her parents were both in the fashion industry and her peers shunned her because of this, thinking that she had it easy. But the truth was she got no special help from her parents or teachers, and worked just as hard as anyone else in her major. That’s why she took the nude modeling job, because it was a good way to make money to have fun with her girlfriend visited and also because she was bored. 

The early classes paid more, so Ryuji would find himself rolling out of bed bright and early to hobble over to the fine arts building for 8am life drawing classes, giving his roommate a quick wave as he was still in his pajamas and drinking coffee silently at the table, Morgana the tuxedo cat sitting in the opposite chair like he thought he was a person. 

“You wouldn’t have to wake up so early to get there if you’d just use your crutches. Or call the campus security to drive you over” Akira offered one morning, never having known Ryuji Sakamoto to sign up for anything he had to be at before noon. Ryuji, of course, had refused both of these lines of advice, and woke up thirty minutes earlier than he needed to, to give himself time to drag his injured self across campus, not wanting his roommate or anyone else’s pity or help. However, this usually meant his knee was absolutely throbbing by the time he got to the studio classroom, so staying still for two hours wasn’t the easiest thing in the world. Even less so as winter rolled in, the cold weather making his knee ache even more (if that was possible), and finding out the hard way that the old Art building was not heated. 

“God, it’s fucking freezing in here! They still expect us to drop trou?” he asked Ann once as she returned from her class, wrapping the robe around herself and burrowing under the covers on the couch in the dressing area they shared, slipping on a pair of fluffy bunny slippers she’d brought with her.   
“There’s still drawing classes in the winter, Ryuji. If it makes you feel any better, I think they’re giving us a little extra money for the trouble.” 

This particular morning he’d been extra exhausted, staying up too late on homework he’d gotten behind on, which seemed to be the norm for him lately. Akira had offered him some coffee, but Ryuji never had liked coffee, preferring the sweeter things in life. He realized he’d overslept and started out his long hobble to the art building, welcomed by whipping wind and the hint of snow in the air. Great. Campus was relatively empty this early, luckily for him, since his limping was particularly bad this morning. It wasn’t until halfway there he realized he’d also forgotten to take and bring his painkillers with him, doubling over as he held onto a bench to support himself and catch his breath. How lame, he thought, a once renowned track runner couldn’t even walk across a college campus without getting winded. He sat down on the bench, clutching his knee, and wincing, wondering if he could convince his quiet room mate to bring him his pills, when he heard someone speak to him. 

“Are you alright?” he heard a quiet, gentle voice ask from behind him. Ryuji rolled his eyes, not looking at the owner of the voice, hating that question more than anything these days. Did he look alright? Dumbass. 

“Yeah, I’m fucking fine, why do you ask?” he asked, hissing through the pain radiating from his knee. 

“I’ve been watching you limp across campus for the last ten minutes so I was just…” 

“I’m fine! I don’t need any help! Especially not from yo-“ Ryuji tried, turning around to see the person speaking to him, trailing off as he saw the tallest drink of fine water he’d ever seen in his life. The said owner was just that, tall and lean, wearing dark jeans and a smart looking tan pea coat, gray scarf tied fashionably around his neck. Ryuji couldn’t focus in much on the rest of his face besides a pair of gentle, soft, storm grey eyes looking at him with worry and something like compassion instead of pity and shame. He was also holding the strap of a portfolio; art student. 

“Well, alright then. If you’re sure you don’t need any help…” the tall boy shrugged. 

“I fucking don’t” Ryuji replied, always resorting to prickling like a porcupine when provoking with a kind word. Why was he like this, again? 

That would come back to haunt him he realized, after he’d finally dragged himself to the dressing room, collapsing onto the couch practically on top of Ann, his knee on absolute fire. She’d squealed at him and tried to haul him up, immediately noticing the pain in his face and his hand clamped around his knee. She offered to call Akira herself and take Ryuji’s spot in the class today, but he’d refused. He knew he had a tuition payment coming up and knew he couldn’t miss out on a paycheck. 

“You can barely stand, Ryuji, and today is the coldest it’s been all year…” Ann tried, comforting hand on his arm. 

“Just let me take your place, you can have the money, I don’t care-“ 

“No! I can do it. Just. Give me a second, okay?” he’d replied, stifling by a large yawn. Ann pursed her lips at him, crossing her arms, kind of reminding him of how his mom would look at him when he was being stupid. Which was often. She finally threw her hands up in surrender, although refusing to listen to his complaints at helping get him undressed. Past Ryuji would have lost his mind at the thought of a girl like Ann undressing him, but she had compared looking at him naked gave her the same amount of feelings looking at a dead bird or something would. Nice. He took a deep breath limped out to the pedestal, thanking the gods that the teacher was letting him sit today. This morning as apparently the advanced figure drawing class, so there were new faces all around him. Not that he noticed, too distracted by the pain from his knee and how frigid it was in the drafty building. There were three small space heaters set up around the pedestal, which helped a little bit, but every creaky gust of wind made him shiver. He hoped these so called advanced students liked drawing goosebumps and pointy boy nipples. 

Eventually the searing pain in his leg started to wane, and the space heaters started doing their job, warming him up as he stayed still, sitting up straight in the chair with one arm leaning on the back of it, head in his hand, one knee brought up and one leg extended. The room was quiet and dim, the only sounds were the gentle humming of the heaters and soft scratching of pencils on paper, and sometimes the stray whisper of the professor and a student. The combination of his lack of sleep, lack of caffeine and painkillers, the warm pocket of air around him and repetitive white noise had Ryuji dozing off a bit, eyes fluttering and head nodding off. No one really seemed to notice, more focused on the lines of his body and muscle, but in his dozing state he felt like he saw a familiar pair of stormy grey eyes watching him intently from over a canvas. He didn’t know how long he’d had his eyes closed, but he was daydreaming of going back to his little campus apartment and burrowing under the blankets and catching up on his shows, taking a nice painkiller induced nap, wondering if maybe Akira would get him some take out from that beef noodle bowl place he liked so much, perfect for a cold day like today. Maybe Ann would come over and they’d have some drinks and play poker and melt into a platonic cuddle puddle for the weekend…

He was coerced out of this daydream, however, by the sound and feel of his own body slumping to the floor and his undignified grunt, realizing he’d dozed off and slipped out of the chair and face first off the pedestal. He blinked away the initial shock of falling and into the myriad of concerned faces above him, all hovering but no one actually wanting to touch the naked stranger they’d all been drawing a minute before. 

“Is he dead?”   
“Of course he’s not dead, moron, don’t you see his eyes moving?”  
“Did he fall asleep? That’s weird…”   
“Give him some room!” a familiar voice finally said, and Ryuji’s line of sight was suddenly full of those grey eyes, thick eyelashes, thin eyebrows knit into a worrisome look, surrounded by the darkest, silkiest looking hair he’d ever seen. In his dazed, sleepy state he’d apparently narrowed his eyes at the owner of the voice, giving a low chuckle. “Damn, you’re pretty…” he’d mumbled, slipping back off as Ann appeared with the robe and a blanket to cover him and help him up. The dark haired boy had apparently blushed heavily, declaring, “Oh my god, he’s got a concussion!” before Ann had shooed all the students away to help Ryuji get home. 

++++

“I did not faint. I fell asleep and slipped off the chair” Ryuji corrected after Ann had dragged him back to his and Akira’s apartment, recounting the tale of the morning to the other boy.   
“What, do you think falling sounds manlier than fainting? You were still face down and ass up” Ann rolled her eyes. Akira snorted from behind his hand.   
“I told you not to do it, but noooo, you just had to waddle out there anyway” the blonde girl chided, but still going about in their little kitchenette making him something to eat so he could take his meds.   
“Spread eagle on the floor like a damn fool, telling boys they’re pretty, you’re a mess, Ryuji Sakamoto” she’d said, sitting down the noodle bowl in front of him with a little more force than necessary. Ryuji furrowed his brow, mouthful of food.   
“I didn’t tell any dudes they were pretty, what are you talking about?”


	3. Chapter 3

He had entered into a strange friendship with Yusuke Kitagawa, senior art major, with a focus in painting. Yusuke had expressed concern after Ryuji’s fall, and when the blonde had replied with venom and not wanting the taller boy’s pity, Yusuke had scoffed at him. 

“I wasn’t pitying you, I was just concerned about the most interesting life model we’ve had in months injuring his face or body” Yusuke had replied. Ryuji could only stare. That was the weirdest thing anyone had ever said to him. Yusuke had just stated that he enjoyed drawing Ryuji’s body type, and they didn’t usually have many athletes come pose for them, so it would be a waste if he got hurt and couldn’t model anymore. Yusuke had also been the only one of the class brave enough to help the blonde up and get him covered, if not for his shame then for his warmth and well-being. 

“You probably wouldn’t be so tired if you didn’t limp across campus every morning. Don’t you have crutches or something to help you get around?” the artist had asked indignantly, getting a snarl from the blonde boy and Ann having to place a calming hand on his arm. 

‘He’s…sensitive about that subject…” Ann tried to explain. 

Yusuke drove Ryuji crazy and annoyed him endlessly. He would make comments about the muscle definition in the once-runner’s legs but even more about the weight gain around his stomach and thighs, and how if maybe he’d use his crutches or let campus security drive him, he wouldn’t have to wear that ugly knee brace that marred his otherwise nice physique; art wise. Don’t you own any clothes besides ramen stained sweatpants? He’d ask. God, Ryuji really had to start doing his own laundry. It wasn’t that Yusuke was being mean, he was just voicing rather obvious observations bluntly and out loud when most other people either didn’t care enough to say or were too scared of Ryuji’s scowl to do so. The artist’s lack of tact and Ryuji always taking the bait had them arguing with each other almost every class; Ryuji naked on a pedestal and Yusuke from behind his canvas with his hands on his hips. Ann apparently thought it was hilarious, and Ryuji could hear her giggling from behind the curtain of their makeshift dressing area. 

“You two argue like an old married couple. It’s cute” she’d snickered one afternoon after he’d stomped off the pedestal and angrily wrapped the robe around himself, throwing himself into the arm chair across from her. Ann always took the longer robe, so Ryuji was stuck with the one that ended at his knees.   
“There is nothing cute about that asshole out there” he’d replied, but his blush betrayed him.   
“That’s not what you were saying that day you fainted~” she sang.   
“Oh shut the fuck up, Ann” he’d snapped, but the blonde girl just laughed at his blush and told him to close his legs.   
“No one wants to see your weird balls, please sit like a normal person” she’d asked.   
“They’re not weird! Do you think they’re weird?” he asked, lifting up the robe to observe, but she was too busy covering her eyes and they were both too busy laughing to notice that Yusuke had attempted to knock and get their attention, since it was Ann’s turn to model for the class. The artist got a face full of Ryuji Sakamoto’s ass, and immediately balked and looked away, staring hard at his feet as he shakily asked Ann if she was ready. Ryuji thought nothing of it, but Ann looked knowingly at the art student as she breezed by. 

+++

Yusuke started hanging out their little group, mostly at Ann’s invitation, but Ryuji had to admit he liked adding the painter to their motley crew. He seemed a little out of place the first time he walked into the dimly lit campus bar they liked to hang out in, wearing nice jeans, wide necked shirt and leather jacket, and looking far too elegant for their beat up booth. But one look at their shared table in the back corner and excited waving from Ann from over Akira’s head, his stoic face broke into a smile that sort of made Ryuji’s heart skip a beat. Shit. He would slide into the seat next to Ryuji, offering the shorter blonde a shy, private smile that he could only return. Ann and Akira would have drink and drink and shot after shot, usually dragging each other to the dance floor while Yusuke and Ryuji would usually only nurse one drink for the night – Yusuke because he wasn’t much for drinking and Ryuji because alcohol and painkillers didn’t exactly mix very well together, something he’d learned the hard way. That mostly left the two of them alone in the back booth only a breath away from one another, laughing at their rowdy friends and talking about anything and everything from the weather to classes to Ryuji’s injury and Yusuke’s art block he’d been in. Yusuke was surprisingly easy to talk to and a pretty good listener, because the ex-track star realized that this was the first time he’d ever opened up about his life after his knee. 

Their closeness did not go unnoticed, as two pairs of wandering eyes from the bar and dance floor were watching their every move and every laugh and every lopsided grin exchanged one those evenings. 

“So, when’s your next date?” Ann asked him one afternoon, walking with him arm in arm across campus just as it was being dusted by light snow. Ryuji raised his eyebrows at her in question, and she was grinning up at him devilishly. 

“Date? With who? Am I dating someone in my painkiller dazes?” he asked with a laugh.   
“With Yusuke, silly!” she giggled. Ryuji coughed mid-sip of his water.  
“Yusuke? We’re not… I’m not, I just…what are you talking about?!” he stammered, though the blush was high on his cheeks and making Ann giggle from behind her hand. The blonde managed to regain his composure for a split second to reply. 

“There is nothing going on between me and Yusuke” he tried to say as casually as possible.   
“Well not with that attitude” Ann scoffed at him.

Ryuji had tried to ignore this conversation, forget it happened, but he couldn’t. Mostly because he found himself wondering if maybe his time with Yusuke did count as dates, and if his lingering gazes were more than just that. Also because Ann Takamaki didn’t know how to let things go. 

“I think Yusuke likes you” Ann had stated, plain as day as if she was talking about the weather one evening while she was hanging out with Akira and Yusuke at the dive bar. They had ordered burgers and beer; Ann and Akira on one side of the booth so Ryuji could stretch his leg out on the other side. 

“What the shit are you talking about?” he asked, mouth full and almost choking on his fries. 

“He totally likes him” Ann continued, turning to talk to Akira, who seemed to be listening intently to the news. “All they do is argue and pick at each other like an old couple and Yusuke can’t take his eyes off him.” 

“He’s?? Drawing me, he’s supposed to look at me, stupid” Ryuji argued, but the thought of the tall dark haired artist liking him was doing weird things to his stomach. 

“He doesn’t look at me like that when he’s drawing me” Ann noted. “He looks at me the same way he’d look at a bowl of fruit with flies on it. He looks at you like you’re an all-you-can-eat prime rib buffet.” 

Ryuji choked on his food again at the comparison while Akira all but chortled into his milkshake. Suddenly he couldn’t really deny it, though. Despite the disagreements and arguments and comments about his body, Yusuke was rather kind. 

He hovered at the doors to make sure Ann and Ryuji left the building safe at night, made sure the space heaters were working and that the robes were clean, and was one of the only students who actually talked to them like they were human beings instead of just silent drawing figures. He expressed concern whether or not Ann was eating enough (“Trust me, she eats enough” Ryuji had snorted, having seen the girl put away triple patty burgers like they were nothing) and asked how Ryuji’s injury was healing, and if they needed to draw him sitting down instead of standing some days. One particularly cold morning, Yusuke had brought them coffee, which Ann accepted graciously, and Ryuji held his hand up at. 

“Thanks, but I don’t drink coffee.”

“Oh. I know, so I brought you hot chocolate instead” Yusuke stated plainly, having remembered that one and only time the blonde had mentioned he didn’t like the bitter taste of coffee, but instead preferred something sweeter. Ryuji was shocked to realize that Yusuke’s concern came not from a place of pity or feeling sorry for him, but from a place of genuine concern for his well-being and compassion. 

Ann’s prime rib buffet comment had stuck in his head afterwards, and felt himself feeling rather exposed in the advanced drawing classes under the steely gaze of the tall painter. It wasn’t until later when he realized this was a feeling of actually liking that Yusuke was looking at him like that, finding himself positioning his posing so that Yusuke had a front row seat to his backside. 

It all came to a head one afternoon where Ann had left early to go pick up Makoto from the bus station, so Ryuji had stayed an extra hour for her. Unfortunately this meant he wasn’t able to get home before it started raining, and he definitely hadn’t brought his own umbrella. Usually he shared one with Ann, who carried a large, frilly pink one that was big enough to cover them both, Ryuji secretly holding onto her arm so he wouldn’t struggle with walking home as much. Ann never mentioned it, because Ann was a true friend. Instead, he found himself standing underneath the awning of the large building, looking up at the dark grey skies and heavy raindrops. It was a twenty five minute walk back to the apartments on a good day, but today was definitely not a good knee day. He was almost ready to succumb to his pride and call campus security when he heard that soft, gentle, deep voice from next to him. 

“Oh! Did you forget an umbrella?” 

Ryuji looked up to see Yusuke standing there underneath a clear, bell shaped umbrella, wearing his typical dark pants and fancy looking pea coat and scarf, portfolio over his shoulder and wide-eyed look of concern on his face. 

And that’s how Ryuji Sakamoto, age twenty one, ended up shoulder to shoulder under a tiny umbrella with Yusuke Kitagawa, who was walking him home in a rainstorm. He tried to focus on anything and everything but how nice the gesture was, and how warm the taller’s body was, arms brushing as they walked, and how nice he smelled… Jesus, Ryuji, what’s with all the gay thoughts?! 

“Watch out” Yusuke’s gentle, deep voice murmured, his hand at the small of Ryuji’s back as he almost stepped into the crosswalk before the light changed. The blonde’s face flushed as he tried to pull his beanie down over his ears; Oh right, all the gay thoughts were happening because Ryuji was totally fucking gay for Yusuke. God. He spent the rest of the walk having a mini gay panic, this would have never happened if Ann didn’t skip out early to fetch her girlfriend; in fact this had probably been Ann’s plan all along, because he knew she was that conniving when she wanted to be. He would constantly catch the fashion major whispering with Akira while Ryuji had left the room, and he had no doubt that meddling in his relationship (or lack thereof) with Yusuke was the subject of their secrets. 

“Ryuji.” God, he loved how his name sounded when Yusuke said it. What would it sound like screamed? Or moaned? Or- 

“Ryuji?” 

Snapped out of his thoughts Ryuji looked up, seeing that they had made it to the apartment complex, and Yusuke was looking at him expectantly, grey eyes gentle and smile soft. 

“Lost in your thoughts?” he chuckled, smile crinkling his eyes. Cute. You have no idea. A large delivery truck raced by, and Ryuji shifted to avoid getting splashed, his knee faltering. 

Lots of things happened at once. Yusuke caught his shoulder with his free hand not holding the umbrella, and Ryuji held onto the nearest thing to help him balance, which happened to be gripping his fists against Yusuke’s jacket, so they were chest to chest. They stared at each other for a moment, and Ryuji had always thought the phrase ‘getting lost in someone’s eyes’ sounded stupid, but damn if he wasn’t ready to be proclaimed missing and never to found again while looking into Yusuke’s eyes. Yusuke seemed unable to tear said eyes away from looking at the blonde’s mouth, and tried to speak; “Ryu-“ but was cut off immediately when Ryuji took the chance to stand on his tip toes, (a full head shorter than the artist), and silence him by pressing their lips together in a soft kiss. 

Yusuke “mmph’d” into the kiss in surprise at first, but quickly relaxed, his hand at the shorter’s shoulder trailing down his arm slowly to rest at his waist. The kiss was soft, and gentle, and sweet, and Ryuji had always wanted to kiss someone in the rain, although the fact that it was a tall, dark haired art student that drove him insane was a surprise. They resurfaced a minute later, and Ryuji would deny until the day he was dead that his eyelashes fluttered and that Yusuke had bumped their noses together. There was an invitation to come upstairs and continue their activities caught dead in Ryuji’s throat however, when he heard the sound of someone clearing their throat, breaking him out of his Yusuke-themed daze. 

Standing there under their own umbrellas was Akira, with a bag of groceries in one hand, and next to him was his on-again-off-again boyfriend Akechi, a brunette criminal justice major. Akira had his eyebrows raised with a knowing look on his face, while Akechi wore an expression on his face like he’d just found the golden egg. “Well isn’t this interesting?” he finally said. Ryuji had pulled away from Yusuke like he was poison, letting the umbrella drip rain water on him in the process, and had all but fled into the apartment building without another word or glance at the taller, who looked after him, mouth moving in silent question, like a fish out of water.

Ryuji had regretted his exit strategy the minute he’d closed the door to his bedroom, letting out a pent up breath he didn’t know he was holding. That wasn’t exactly how he’d imagined their first kiss happening, not that he’d been imaging it or anything, but being walked up on by his roommate and roommate’s annoying not-boyfriend-boyfriend hadn’t really been in the plan. None of this had been his plan, honestly, but he did very much enjoy kissing Yusuke…


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow! thank you everyone who's left nice comments about this fic so far! they mean so much to me! i've always been really nervous about sharing the things i write online/publically so it's really nice to read them and see that more people like this ship as much as me ♡ it's definitely inspired me to get this chapter up faster, sorry about that cliffhanger last time.

He realized he needed to apologize to Yusuke the next morning as he climbed into the building, not missing the part where the dark haired art student didn’t bother to look up from his canvas.

Ryuji threw his robe on and stomped over to Yusuke’s station, talking to him in a low whisper. 

“Hey, I think we need to talk about what happen-“

“There’s nothing to talk about” he interrupted, nonchalantly. “You kissed me and apparently decided it was so repulsive you had to run.” Ryuji stared at him, wide eyed.

“That’s not what happened!” he hissed.

“That’s how I remember it” Yusuke shrugged, but the blonde didn’t miss the fact that the dark haired boy wouldn’t look him in the eye. Usually unwavering, sincere eye contact was all he did. It kind of weirded the ex-runner out at first, but he found he actually missed it when it wasn’t happening. 

“Yusuke, please, I just want…” He was cut off by Ann waving at him as she exited with another group of students. When he turned back around Yusuke was very obviously looking at his legs, still stuck in the short robe. 

“Hey, come on, eyes up here, man” Ryuji had motioned with his hand, Yusuke’s eyes snapping back up to his face. His eyebrows furrowed. 

“Are you wearing socks with sandals?” Yusuke asked, as if this caused him more disgust than a clogged up toilet. Ryuji looked down at his shoe wear choice. At least his socks matched for once. 

“That’s not what we’re talking about!” 

“Yes. Well. We’re not talking about anything, I suppose” Yusuke had stated plainly, gathering up his things and leaving the blonde standing there, arms crossed around himself, wearing a shorty robe and ugly sandals and a frown. 

 

That night he had been perfectly happy to stay in and stew in his self-pity again, one stupid choice having ruined a perfectly nice friendship (if not something more), but Ann had literally dragged him from the couch by his ankles in demand that he come out with her and Makoto and Akira like he’d promised her he would a few days ago. “Okay, okay, I’ll come, just let me go! How are you so strong?!”

Ryuji mostly tuned out the laughter and conversation of the evening, chin in his hand and poking absently at the soggy coaster under his drink, only lulled out by Ann’s cheerful voice.

“Oh! Look! Yusuke’s here!” Ryuji’s head snapped up embarrassingly fast, seeing the tall dark-haired boy in question enter the bar and look around shyly. Looking amazing in a simple v neck and sweater, the audacity. 

“Shit” he cursed, trying to hide his face, as if it wasn’t obvious who he was. Akira was staring across the table at him with scary intensity. Ann, of course, noticed. 

“What’s… what’s happening, here? Did something happen between you and Yus-“

“They kissed yesterday” Akira said, point blank.

“You WHAT?!” Ann all but shrieked, having Makoto clap her hand over her girlfriend’s mouth. “Ann!” the brunette hissed at her. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Ann whisper-hissed at him, eyes wide. 

“Because it’s nobody’s fucking business!” Ryuji whisper-hissed back at her, eyes darting wildly back and forth from the blonde girl and Yusuke, who was working his way through the Friday night crowd slowly towards them. 

“Akechi and I interrupted them. It was an accident. But Ryuji bolted, and…”

“Dude!” Ryuji yelled, hands up in defeat. Akira shrugged, taking a sip of his drink, like he hadn’t just spilled the beans in front of their friends. Ryuji probably should’ve known by now that it was next to impossible to keep a secret around these people.

“You ran away from him? How stupid are you, Sakamoto?” Ann asked with an eye roll. Ryuji wasn’t able to dignify that with a response, however, because Yusuke had finally reached the table, and Ann had welcomed him with wildly faked excitement, all of them trying to act like they weren’t just talking about him two seconds ago. 

Ann introduced him to Makoto as he took his regular seat next to Ryuji, who noticed despite the almost five foot long booth seat, the artist still sat only inches away from him. The tension between them was palpable, both of them refusing to look at each other, but it was obvious they both wanted to. The three sitting across the booth from them kept exchanging nervous glances with one another, Ann raising her hand and opening her mouth to say something, but Akira silently reached over to push her hand back down. The trio finally decided they couldn’t stand it anymore, Ann announcing that she was thirsty and needed another drink, grabbing her girlfriend’s wrist to leave the table. 

“But you’re not even done with-“

“Be right back!” she chirped, and Akira followed them quietly, leaving Ryuji and Yusuke alone.

Ryuji sighed deeply and shifted his position, daring to glance over at the dark haired boy next to him. He started to say something, but Yusuke beat him to it. 

“I didn’t come here tonight to see you. I came because Ann invited me and it would be rude of me not to accept” he said nonchalantly, still refusing to raise his gaze from the table. 

“Okay” Ryuji replied slowly, his own gaze drifted down to where he could have sworn Yusuke inched closer in the past few minutes. A few more awkward moments of heavy silence drifted by before Ryuji realized he couldn’t spend the evening watching his drink melt. Something had to give. 

“Look, Yusuke, I know you said there’s nothing to talk about, but… I need to say it, alright? I’m sorry… I’m sorry about yesterday, I shouldn’t have –“

“I know, because I repulse you, and”

“You don’t ‘repulse’ me! How could you repulse anyone?!” Ryuji interrupted, Yusuke finally looking at him, surprise in his eyes. 

“I just, got surprised, is all, I wasn’t expecting my roommate and his stupid boyfriend to show up, and I really don’t like Akechi, he’s an annoying gossip and can’t keep his mouth shut-“

“Oh, so you were embarrassed of me?” 

“What?” 

“You were embarrassed to be seen with me, I understand, it is…not the first time that has happened, I suppose…” 

“What? No! I’m not embarrassed to be seen with you, you’re amazing!” 

Yusuke blinked over at him in surprise. 

“If anything you should be embarrassed to be seen around me, who wants to be seen with an ex-star athlete with a bum knee?”

“I don’t feel that way at all” Yusuke replied gently. Ryuji couldn’t help the blush that rose to his cheeks, always surprised by the softness and gentleness of Yusuke’s voice, even when he was upset. 

“Look, I’m not embarrassed or repulsed or anything else by you, at all. I don’t know why I bolted like that, I wanted to invite you upstairs, actually, but Akechi is always sticking his nose into everybody’s everything and he’s really annoying, always giving Akira the run around, but I think he might like it? But I know I needed to apologize, and I really like you, Yusuke, but i didn't know the right way to go about telling you that, so I just –“ 

The blonde’s rambling was cut off by Yusuke pulling him forward by his hoodie strings and planting another one of those soft kisses into his mouth, and Ryuji melted. 

“You talk too much” Yusuke murmured after they parted, noses bumping, and those impossible lashes fluttering. Ryuji nodded dumbly, “I really do” he agreed with a lopsided grin. 

The duo stole out of the bar, grinning at each other and hand-in-hand, as Yusuke suggested they go somewhere quieter, and his dorm was nearby. Ryuji figured their friends wouldn’t notice or miss them, but had his focus not been locked on to a certain lanky painter, he would have noticed Akira giving Ann a thumbs up from over Akechi’s shoulder at the bar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please enjoy ryuji's terrible fashion decision of socks and sandals. i think there might be two more short chapters after this, i'm not sure. thanks for reading!  
> come yell at me about ryuji and yusuke on twitter @pancakepaladin! ♡♡♡


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am...so sorry this took ages to update. sort of lost my inspiration for ryukita, but hopefully it's back!! i do love these goofy boys with all my heart, after all. i'll post up one more little drabble after this, but this is probably it for the main story. i hope you guys liked it, every comment and every kudo left makes me smile!

Yusuke was on him the minute they got inside his dorm room. It seemed like a complete 180 from the laughing, sweet Yusuke he had been walking home with from the bar moments before, who shyly squeezed his hand and looked away with a slight blush when Ryuji squeezed it back. The dorms were dark and quiet, for a weekend night, and Yusuke beckoned for Ryuji to enter the room first after he’d unlocked the door. Ryuji wanted to make a comment about how these dorms were a lot nicer than the shit ones he and Akira had lived in their freshman year, but all thoughts and words were cut off the minute the door clicked shut behind them, and the tall artist had pinned Ryuji against the wall there, kissing him hard and deep. 

Ryuji made a weird surprised sound in the back of his throat as it happened, but almost immediately gave in, fisting his hands in silky, dark hair and welcoming the kiss, that was about ten times hotter than the one they shared the previous day on the steps of his apartment building in the rain. He hadn’t really expected that from the demure art major, but fuck, Ryuji wasn’t complaining. 

When they finally parted for air, gasping and panting like they’d just run a marathon, Yusuke’s eyes were searching for something in Ryuji’s, and suddenly looked very guilty. 

“Oh. I’m. I should apologize. Is this moving too fast? I should have asked, I suppose…” he almost stuttered, attempting to let go of the blonde’s shoulders, but only running his hands down his chest instead. Ryuji couldn’t help but just stare back in stunned silence, still sort of reeling from that kiss. Was it moving too fast? Should they go on a few dates first or something? Ask about Yusuke’s family or if he had any pets or what his favourite color was? Should it really have been that hot to be pinned up against a wall like that with such ease? 

Something in Ryuji’s brain finally sparked back to life, and he shook his head, “No, Nah, it’s not moving too fast, I think we’re good” before diving back into another heated kiss. Yusuke moaned happily into it this time, wrapping his arms around the shorter’s waist and pulling him closer. 

They managed to clumsily toe off shoes and jackets and fall into a tangle of limbs on a well-placed couch; Ryuji’s head against the arm rest and Yusuke’s lithe body fitting nicely above him and in between his still sweatpants-clad legs. Ryuji couldn’t get enough of his hands in Yusuke’s hair, and Yusuke’s hands seemed to immediately travel up the blonde’s shirt to splay against his abdomen, humming appreciatively into their kisses. Ryuji smirked into one kiss, about to say something snarky about Yusuke finally being able to appreciate his ab muscles properly, with his hands instead of his eyes; but the artist did something particularly filthy with his tongue and skimming his fingers over what was apparently sensitive nipples, and reduced the blonde to a full body shudder and needy moan he’d later deny. 

Part of Ryuji wanted to flip them over and be the one who was on top, but in the back of his clouded head he knew that was probably a bad idea with his knee. Stupid knee, he thought, but any and all thoughts of being on top and his knee were thrown to the wind when their hips canted against one another; Yusuke still in his jeans and Ryuji still wearing his athletic pants. Why exactly were they both still wearing pants again? 

Ryuji was doing his best to pull the sweater Yusuke was still wearing off him, wanting to run his hands down those long arms and get a better reach at that deep expanse of neck and collarbone the artist had the nerve to keep showing off with all his wide-necked shirts he wore. He was apparently doing a bad job at it though, because Yusuke broke their kiss to lean back and pull it off himself, discarding it somewhere behind him, running his own hand through his hair, eyes half lidded and full of want, those perfect fucking eyelashes fluttering over his flushed cheeks as he looked down at Ryuji. Ryuji stared up at him, dumbstruck, shirt hiked up to chest and sweatpants drooping enticingly low. Yusuke’s brow furrowed, marring his pretty features slightly, asking, “Is something wrong?” 

“What? No, nothing’s… nothing’s wrong, you’re just…you’re just fucking hot, get back down here before I lose it” Ryuji demanded, pulling the taller back down by his shirt collar and pressing their lips back together insistently. He was vaguely aware of Yusuke smiling into the kisses, and damn if that wasn’t one of the greatest feelings in the world. They went on kissing and rutting against each other’s still clothed crotches for what seemed like ages before Yusuke’s hands left their explorations of Ryuji’s chest, and the deafening sound of a zipper being undone yet again pulled them apart. Ryuji’s eyes fell to Yusuke’s waist, where his dark jeans were unzipped, revealing light blue boxer briefs with a slight buldge of half hard interest in their activities. 

Yususke hesitated again, “Should I sto-“ 

“Does it look like I want you to stop?” Ryuji interrupted, gesturing to his own below-the-waist situation, having somehow worked himself halfway out of his sweats, bright red boxers also leaving little to the imagination. Not like Yusuke hadn’t seen and drawn every last naked inch of him anyway. 

Ryuji’s sweatpants were finally on the floor, too far gone to worry about how the knee brace marred his skin during such an intimate, steamy make out session, too busy with his hands down the back of the artist’s ridiculously tight jeans, trying his best to work his partner out of them while simultaneously finally getting a handful of that ass. Yusuke made another appreciative, encouraging sound in his mouth and pressed back into his hands, the taller’s own hands cradling Ryuji’s face in one rather sweetly, the other hand moving agonizingly slow down his chest and waist, his mouth having moved to leave incredibly well placed kisses on the blonde’s neck. 

“Fucking, hell, Yusuke, you…” he embarrassingly gasped as the taller left a rather filthy kiss at a sensitive place at the base of the ex-athlete’s neck. Two for two, apparently the dark haired boy above him was bound and determined to find all the places he was sensitive tonight. Ryuji halfway forgot about his task to get his make out partner out of his jeans, one hand still down them and the other holding onto the taller’s shoulder while he worked even more searing kisses into his neck, the blonde making embarrassing sounds over his shoulder, fighting to keep his eyes open, but not wanting to miss a second of this. 

It was at this point where his vision came into focus at the doorframe, realizing someone else was in the room, standing completely still and watching them. Ryuji furrowed his brow, wondering if he was just seeing things, especially since it seemed like he was staring at a rather female figure, but said figure then failed to surpress a snorting giggle behind her hand. Ryuji yelled for two reasons at the moment – one part realizing they were not alone and one part what the fuck kind of kiss was that, Yusuke?! 

“What? What happened? Did I hurt yo-“

“Who the shit is that?!” Ryuji interrupted, pointing over the taller’s shoulder, Yusuke turning, but not looking surprised in the least. 

“Oh. Hello Futaba. I didn’t think you would be here this evening…” 

“Clearly not” the girl snickered behind her hand, moving to sit down in an armchair next to the couch, flipping on the television casually and opening up her pizza box; like she wasn’t sitting down next to two people who had just been furiously making out moments before. 

“What is-“ 

“Futaba is my roommate” Yusuke stated plainly, like they were talking about the weather, untangling himself from Ryuji’s hold and zipping himself back up into his jeans. Ryuji was still pants-less and staring, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, brain trying to work in overdrive to piece things together. 

Futaba, was, apparently Yusuke’s roommate. Yusuke had lived alone for the first year of school, mostly due to his peers not really liking him very much. But, halfway through sophomore year, Futaba had transferred in, and due to a clerical error had been assigned to live with Yusuke in the art dorms. They seemed to get along well enough, given that they both liked to mind their own business and keep to themselves, so they had never reported it. 

“Ib thib the guy oove been talbing about?” the ginger-haired girl asked from her perch on the chair, glasses-clad eyes not looking up from the television, mouth full of pizza. Ryuji stared. 

“What?!” 

She finally swallowed, wiping her mouth on her oversized hoodie sleeve. 

“Is this the guy you’ve been talking about? The naked guy from your art classes?” Yusuke sighed, rolling his eyes, “Yes, Futaba, this is Ryuji. Ryuji, Futaba” he introduced them lazily. 

“’Sup. Cute boxers” she nodded over at him, referring to his bright red boxer briefs decorated with little flames and bottles of hot sauce. She was snorting another giggle as Ryuji snatched his pants up from the floor and shimmied back into them, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Should I… should I leave?” he asked, still sort of confused from yet again being walked in on and ignore the Blue Balls Lite he was experiencing from being interrupted from their previous actions. 

“No, no, don’t leave, I’ll go in my room, I just wanted to watch this one part of this show. You two can go back to… dry humping or whatever it is you were doing, don’t mind me!” she waved her hand dismissively, unfolding herself from the chair and disappearing into a bedroom, pizza box and all. They both stared after her, Ryuji halfway in shock and Yusuke wearing a slightly annoyed look on his otherwise pretty face. 

“Sorry about that. I thought she had gone home for the weekend. I suppose I got the dates wrong…” Yusuke trailed off, Ryuji looking up to realize the taller’s arm was around the back of the couch and that he was pressed into his side. When did that happen? He shrugged, relaxing into the warm body next to him anyway. He was far past any hesitation or question at this point in the evening. After a few moments of warm, comfortable silence, he became aware of the taller pressing his nose and soft lips against the crown of his head. 

“Is it some sort of sign that we keep getting interrupted?” he asked, voice low in the dimly lit dorm. Ryuji snorted. 

“A sign we need to find more private places to make out.” 

++++

Ryuji ended up dozing off right there on the couch with Yusuke, after a few more stolen kisses and soft murmurs of dates they should probably go on, or something. 

“So, how should this work? Is there really any appeal or mystery since you’ve kind of… already seen me completely naked, and everything…” Ryuji asked, half joking and half curious. Wasn’t that one of the main appeals of dating someone? To eventually get their clothes off them? Had Ryuji ruined the one thing he had going for him? 

Yusuke laughed, having laid down on his back this time and had his arms draped around the blonde’s back as they laid chest to chest, careful of the smaller’s knee. 

“Of course there’s still appeal. Besides all that, you haven’t seen me without clothes yet, so I suppose…” he shrugged, making Ryuji hide his face from blushing at the thought. Come on, man. 

++++

The next morning, Ryuji woke up to too-bright sunlight streaming in through windows, a wicked cramp in his leg, with face and body pressed into a warm and nice smelling body.   
And crunching. What was making that crunching sound? Ryuji looked up, eyes groggy and blinking away sleep, looking over the back of the couch into the small kitchenette, seeing Yusuke’s roommate again, standing in the middle of the kitchen with a mixing bowl full of cereal and looking at her phone. She glanced up when she felt his eyes on her, and raised her spoon at him in greeting. 

“Morning, princess. You’re looking ravishing” she laughed through her mouthful of cereal. Didn’t anyone ever teach her not to talk with her mouth full? (Pot calling the kettle black, he guessed) 

Ryuji rubbed his face, knowing what he looked like when he woke up; looking and feeling like he got hit by an eighteen-wheeler, and was trying to untangle himself from the body and couch he had slept on without waking said owner of the body. Yusuke didn’t deserve to be subjected to just-woke-up Ryuji; he’d known Akira for years and still felt bad that his bespectacled roommate had to deal with it. This was easier said than done, as the tall boy underneath him stirred the minute Ryuji moved, yawning and stretching out like a cat fresh from a nap. His dark eyes fluttered open, catching sight of the blonde and smiling softly, “Good morning.” Shit. Cute. Also definitely not looking like he slept on a couch in his clothes with some injured athlete snoring and drooling on top of him. Yusuke Kitagawa literally woke up flawless. The absolute nerve. Ryuji didn’t realize he was staring, slack jawed, until his phone buzzed to life from the floor, closest to Yusuke. 

The artist bent down to retrieve it and hand it to Ryuji, but not before glancing at the text bubbles on the screen, covering his mouth as he laughed gently. 

“Your friends certainly are…interesting” he noted, Ryuji looking down at the stream of embarrassing, all caps and emojis texts from Ann and Akira that had popped up on his phone overnight. 

[Ann Takamaki | 12:05am] I HOPE UR MAKING GOOD CHOICES RYUJI  
[Ann Takamaki | 12:07am] U BETTER TELL ME EVERYTHING  
[Ann Takamaki | 12:08am] EV ER Y THINGGGG!!!!!!!

[Akira Kurusu | 12:10am] dont do anything I wouldnt do  
[Akira Kurusu | 12:11am] jk lol get u some [eggplant emojis] 

Akira sent about three more walls of eggplants and water drop emojis, making Ryuji groan out loud and roll his eyes so hard it almost hurt. 

“They’re terrible, and nosy, and the worst, I’m sorry…” 

Yusuke shrugged with a wry smile. “I don’t know about all that. I like them.” 

Ryuji couldn’t help but grin back, watching the artist’s eyes crinkle at the edges as he smiled, soft expression full of easy promises and much more.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a little something extra and cute i wrote that goes in this same story/universe.

Winter was difficult for Ryuji, injury wise. The cold weather woke a deep ache in his knee that made him feel like all the previous months of physical therapy and healing were wasted, but his doctor assured him it was just the weather. Not only that, but getting around campus covered with ice and snow drifts with a bum leg wasn’t exactly easy either. Even if he had been smart enough to use his crutches, they probably would have slipped right out from under him on the icy sidewalks anyway. Yusuke had very plainly offered to carry him places, as it was found out the artist could lift the ex-runner like he was a puppy; hooking his long arms underneath the blonde’s knees and back and princess-carrying him up the art building stairs one morning, Ryuji complaining and blushing the whole way. Yusuke had no right to be that effortlessly strong, when all he did was paint and barely ate anything filling, and it gave him weird butterflies in his stomach at the thought.

Ryuji never considered himself a hermit or a shut in until he experienced winter with a bad knee. All he wanted to do stay inside somewhere warm with food and an icy hot on said knee. He constantly turned down Ann and Akira’s invitations to go out to the bars or grab a burger on the weekends in favor of staying in. 

Luckily, he didn’t spend these weekends in all by himself much anymore. It wasn’t so bad, he guessed, when his tall, lanky artist boyfriend was also happy to spend cold, snowy weekends inside with him. Yusuke would let Ryuji stretch out his legs in his lap and rub comforting circles into his thigh with his thumb, smiling to himself as the blonde would stretch out and practically purr like a cat in a patch of sunlight. They’d share take out and snuggle on the couch, maybe make out a little if they were lucky, only ever roused from their love nest when Akira would stumble in either alone and clumsy or with Akechi and laughing while they tried and failed to be quiet. 

He felt kind of bad though, that he could probably count on one hand the times he and Yusuke had actually gone out on real dates together, just the two of them. They both kept busy schedules, and most of the money Ryuji earned from modelling for the art classes immediately went to paying his tuition; whereas Yusuke spent most of his on art supplies instead of food. Ryuji could audibly hear Yusuke’s stomach growl some afternoons and ask him if he’d eaten, eyes narrowed suspiciously. Yusuke would look away like a guilty child, and finally admit he’d bought more brushes or watercolors or canvas or something art related. It wasn’t his fault, he would try to explain, and that he had every intention of going out to the store and buying food, but was easily distracted by anything he found to be aesthetically pleasing on the way there. It wouldn’t be until hours later that he would realize he’d completely forgotten to even buy food, much less eat it. Ryuji would roll his eyes dramatically and drag him to the beef noodle bowl place, pointing at him with his chopsticks and with a mouthful of noodles; “You’re lucky you’re pretty and I like you, or else I wouldn’t be buying you food all the time.” And even with food on his face and talking with his mouth full, Yusuke still gazed across the table at Ryuji like he was magic. 

Ryuji thought of this, sprawled on the couch wearing his comfiest sweats (not pizza stained, hopefully) and smiled lazily as he watched the taller return to the couch with the small heating pad for Ryuji’s knee, enjoying how their bodies leaned into each other as he sat. 

“You know” he started, head resting at Yusuke’s shoulder (luckily the perfect height difference to do so) “I’m sorry I don’t. Take you out more often. Staying in with your bum boyfriend must get boring” he sighed. 

“I don’t mind” Yusuke replied simply, honestly just enjoying the quiet camaraderie of their relationship; truthfully if Yusuke was just able to be touching Ryuji somehow – whether it be thigh to thigh, in each other’s arms, mouth to mouth or the simple intertwining of their fingers – he didn’t really care where they were. 

“But” Ryuji tried again, shifting a little so the taller could easier continue his comforting touch on his leg. “You deserve to be taken out. And showed off. God knows you’re too hot for me” he mumbled, his painkillers kicking in making him oddly honest. Ryuji burrowed into Yusuke’s warm side, rubbing his nose against his boyfriend’s shirt, appreciating the way the taller’s hand fit at the small of his back. 

“I don’t know how you were single” he slurred, also apparently unashamedly snuggly while his painkillers did their job. Yusuke laughed quietly, the low rumble in his stomach always a comfort. 

“Most people don’t seem to find my quirks and personality as … endearing as you do.” 

“S…Stupid” Ryuji muttered, “But more for me I guess” he grinned, feeling his eyes get droopy. 

Yusuke made a soft sound of agreement as he pressed a kiss to the blonde’s forehead, “I could say the same about you” he murmured back with a smile.


End file.
